


The Necessary Application Of Ice

by astrangerfate, orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-12
Updated: 2008-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-22 18:42:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerfate/pseuds/astrangerfate, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam, Dean, a sore ass, a popsicle... you see where this is going, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Necessary Application Of Ice

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble for a friend who asked for Sam, Dean, and the necessary application of ice. Warning for implied disciplinary spanking and explicit sexytimes.

The front door slammed shut and keys jingled faintly as John locked it behind him. Dean listened for the sound of the engine turning over and the Impala rumbling away before he slipped into the small bedroom he shared with Sam.

His brother was lying facedown on the bed, head buried in the crook of his arm. A worn-out cotton sheet was draped carefully over his long body. Dean pulled a chair over to sit beside his brother, placing himself close enough so that Sam would realize he was there.

“Let’s see the damage, okay?” Dean asked softly, and Sam nodded his agreement, still not looking at his older brother.

Dean peeled the sheet back and winced involuntarily. Sam hadn’t bothered to put his underwear back on, and his ass was in bad shape—the bright red handprints bloomed across both cheeks and trailed down the thighs.

Dean let out a low whistle. “Wow, Dad did a number on you, huh?” he asked.

Sam raised his head to glare at his older brother with red-rimmed eyes. “Like you couldn’t hear it,” he said, his voice still quivering.

“Stay there,” Dean directed, ignoring the way Sam rolled his eyes. Because okay, after getting his ass beat like that, Dean wouldn’t feel like moving either.

He grabbed a towel on his way to the kitchen and opened the freezer. He had planned on grabbing an ice pack to cool Sam down, but as he reached for the blue gel pack his eyes lit on a box of popsicles.

“Oh, hell, yeah,” he muttered, leaving the towel on the kitchen counter as he headed back to the bedroom.

Sam was propped up on his elbows, waiting for his older brother to get back. “Close your eyes, Sammy,” Dean said, grinning widely.

“Why?” Sam asked suspiciously, twisting around to look at Dean. “What are you gonna do?”

“Just do it, okay? I promise you’ll like it.”

Sam grimaced, having experienced enough of Dean’s surprises to last a lifetime, but sighed and put his head in his hands. “Just kill me quickly,” he groaned.

“Oh, no, I don’t think you’ll want this to be quick,” Dean said, sitting down on the bed and pulling a popsicle out of the box. He peeled back the waxy white paper, revealing a green popsicle. Lime. He licked his lips as he leaned forward and placed the tip gently on Sam’s red bottom.

Sam stiffened, muscles clenching involuntarily underneath the sudden cold. “Dean?” he asked, his voice cracking. “What is that? What are you doing?”

“Shhhh…” Dean whispered, moving the tip of the popsicle in small circles over Sam’s right cheek. “Just cooling you down, Sammy…”

Sam let out a small whimper as the popsicle slid down his ass, following the lines where his bottom met his thighs, leaving a cold, sticky residue. Dean turned his attention to Sam’s left cheek, going over every inch of the hot skin with the green ice.

“Do you like that, Sammy?” he asked in a low voice. “Does it make it feel better?”

“It’s _cold_ ,” Sam whined, but his bottom clenched and unclenched underneath the popsicle, and his hips started to wiggle as Dean brought the stick back down to the undercurve, pressing a little harder. His skin was being numbed, relieved by the cold treat, and the trickle of cold liquid down his hips and legs was almost too much to take. He thrust his hips forward against the flannel sheets, stopped by Dean’s quiet laugh.

“Told you that you’d like it, bitch,” Dean murmured, sliding the popsicle down Sam’s crack and pausing just above his hole. He probed experimentally, and Sam shrank away.

“Don’t even fucking try it,” he gasped, and Dean laughed again.

“Here,” he said, holding out the half-melted treat for Sam. “Let’s give you a little something to suck on.”

As Sam slid the popsicle into his mouth, sucking the syrup out from the broken tip, Dean bent down, and a minute later Sam felt his brother’s tongue lick cautiously at his upturned bottom. Dean went slowly, careful of the sore skin underneath the sweet coating, and Sam’s eyes closed in absolute bliss.


End file.
